Rug Burn
by sakuradite
Summary: Taichi is a little sh*t and he gets what's coming to him.


A/N: Kind of guest-wrote a sex scene for my friend butterflie's Taito/Yamachi kid-fic extravaganza called **Endless Skies** , go check it out, it's under my faves. Just posting the part I wrote here for posterity or something I DUNNO. Have some stupid popular pairing smut. Spoiler alert: Taichi is a little shit. Yamato tops. They fuck on the living room floor and it gets burn-y. I'm bad at this.

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They had plenty of time, they just had to keep quiet. So with that in mind they spent a fair amount of time just kissing, sitting side-by-side on the couch, hip-to-hip, thighs pressed together, swallowing up each other's noises like they were both starving for them, getting a little desperate about it as the temperature rose between them.

Yamato brings his hand up to cup Taichi's neck, thumb brushing lightly over a pulse-point, pulling him closer until Taichi's practically in his lap, and the brunette shifts. He plants one knee into the couch to anchor himself and swings the other leg over Yamato's, sitting himself down and groaning into the other boy's mouth when he realizes how hard Yamato already is.

"That for me?" Taichi asks, his voice low and sultry, grinning against the other boy's lips.

Taichi grinds down just once, causing Yamato to hiss and pant, his hands flying to grip Taichi's hips and hold him still.

And Yamato wants to say something snarky back, he really does, but all he manages is an almost pained groan, his dick twitching in his pants, the tip getting wet when Taichi grinds down on him one more time, grinning still.

Yamato leans up to capture Taichi's lips, kiss him hard and get him back, but the brunette leans back, chuckling a little, gasping a little while Yamato's fingers start digging into his hips, getting a little mean about it.

"You didn't answer my question," he chides, swaying around a little, dropping sucking little kisses down Yamato's neck, behind his ear, at the back of his jaw, hitting all of Yamato's sweet spots, and the blonde groans, too loud.

"Sssh," Taichi breathes against his neck, and Yamato's head thunks back against the couch, a shiver running through him. His dick is pressing up against the zipper of his jeans so hard now he can feel all the little grooves, he swears he can, fuck.

Taichi's hands are blazing on his already-too-hot skin, down his neck, tracing his collarbone, even over his thin t-shirt. He's on fire, and his brain is fritzing out every time Taichi's hips shift, he can't think past what little friction he's getting, and his hands start to wander. Up the back of Taichi's shirt, tracing the curve of his spine when the brunette arches his back, and he hears Taichi chuckle softly as he leans back, back, Yamato's hands supporting him as he bends backwards, his head tilted back to expose his gorgeous throat, and Yamato thinks he's showing off until the brunette peeks back up at him, grinning wickedly and does a god damn full body roll over him, and Yamato's tether snaps.

He surges forward, shooting off the couch and landing them both on the rug with a loud thud that neither of them are aware of, too busy yanking at each other's clothes and licking into each other's mouths, a self-satisfied little smirk turning up the corners of Taichi's mouth still.

Yamato yanks the shirt right over the brunette's head, leaving his hair a disheveled mess that lights a fire in his belly, his eyes hot and hungry, and Taichi isn't smiling so much anymore under the heat of that look. His pupils shiver and expand and he lets out a little whine, wriggling out of his pants and from Yamato's grasp, darting toward the front door while the blonde lets out an indignant, "Get back here!"

Taichi ignores him in favor of turning his bag over, letting the contents clatter out all over the entryway, pens rolling away from him and papers scattering everywhere, and he snatches up the small bottle of slick, about to book it back into the living room when he runs face-first into Yamato, not having realized the blonde followed him.

"Was supposed to be quicker," is all he says, pushing the blonde down on the floor and crawling over him.

One or both of them is going to get rug burn in some unpleasant places but neither of them seem to care about that as Taichi squirts slick into Yamato's hand and lifts up on his knees a little, giving Yamato the room his needs to run his fingers over Taichi's tight little hole, circling his rim a few times and getting Taichi's heart pounding in his ears and his dick leaking.

"C'mon, c'mon," Taichi whines impatiently, and Yamato smirks up at him, feeling a little spiteful.

"This for me?" he mocks, running a finger up Taichi's aching cock, from base to tip, picking up precum as he goes.

Taichi full-on growls and grabs the blonde's hand that still circling his rim torturously by the wrist. They lock eyes on each other, _no more screwing around_ , and Yamato swallows a little, feeling his dick throb and strain up against his zipper even more.

Taichi gives a curt little nod and Yamato mirrors him, and then the brunette sinks down, hissing a little at the sting, making a punched-out noise from deep in his chest, and then he's rocking his hips and stirring himself up and letting his jaw hang open, blissful. Yamato groans, frozen in place as Taichi rides his finger, and it's not too long before the brunette pants _More_ , and Yamato adds a second finger, has to stop for a moment to re-slick his fingers before he adds the third, and in no time at all, Taichi is fucking himself on all four of Yamato's fingers, his hands splayed out over Yamato's chest for balance, his stomach muscles clenching beautifully under all that tan, luscious skin, a thin sheen of sweat making him look almost ethereal.

Taichi's dick is smearing precum over Yamato's stomach with every roll of his hips, leaking steadily, and Yamato knows his own dick is leaking so much he's sure he's got a stain on the front of his jeans at this point.

They're both panting and groaning and straining in their own rights, and then Taichi sits himself down hard on Yamato's fingers and circles his hips, and Yamato can't take it anymore. He topples the brunette over onto his back, yanking his fingers out and getting his own pants shoved down his hips just enough to let his aching cock spring free, and Taichi's lusty, half-lidded eyes widen a little at how angry and red the tip is, dying for some relief.

"You ready?" Yamato pants, slicking up his hand one more time and getting his dick wet, and Taichi gets a little distracted by that red tip poking out over a pale fist over and over again. His mouth goes a little dry and he starts to lean in, wants it in his mouth, but Yamato's other hand presses gently on his shoulder, pinning him to the floor with a little thump, bringing Taichi back from wherever his brain had drifted off to.

"I said, you ready?" Yamato asks, his voice a little strained, and Taichi nods a little feverishly, lifting his hips up, an invitation.

Yamato presses the tip of his dick to Taichi's loose, wet little hole, presses until he feels the pop, the head of his dick breeching the tight ring of muscle, and he groans at how easily he can slide home after that, bringing their hips flush in one quick, fluid motion.

Taichi's mouth drops open, a gasp catching in his throat, and he forgets to breath for a moment too long, inhaling one shuddering, dry breath as his thighs begin to shake, his hands digging into the carpet.

They both still for a moment, chests heaving and looking into each others eyes, heavy glances dark with lust and need and want, and then Yamato pulls out almost all the way and sinks back in, slow at first, loving the hard, heavy drag of his cock as Taichi twitches around him and starts begging for more, more, _more…_

So Yamato hikes the other boy's hips up, pulling him impossibly closer, getting his tan legs up around his ribs, and clutches at the top of Taichi's thighs for leverage before he starts to really rail into him, the obscene sound of skin hitting skin cracking through the room, punctuated by these little noises coming out staccato from Taichi's throat, _Ah-ah-ah!,_ spurring him on.

"Fuck, yes," Taichi moans, a little too loud, and Yamato reaches up and pinches his left nipple, which has the exact opposite effect he was planning on. Taichi nearly screams at the sensation, and Yamato slaps his hand over the other boy's mouth, looking down at him with wild eyes, and he wants to stop moving, _wants_ to still and listen for any sounds coming from the baby's room, but he can only manage half of that.

Yamato's hips still cant up almost on their own, and Taichi's eyes roll back into his head and he's suddenly spilling, hot and wet all over himself, Yamato's hand still clutched tightly over his mouth and muffling the sounds he's making as he tightens up inside, twitching and practically begging Yamato to follow right behind him.

And that's too much, right there, Yamato can't take it, the sight of Taichi coming completely untouched underneath him, dirtying up his gorgeously tan chest with streak after streak of his own come, and he yanks his own hand back, grips the top of Taichi's thighs so hard he might leave bruises and slams into him so hard that they both start inching along the carpet, Taichi lax and spent beneath him but still trying to meet his every thrust, lazily tugging at his softening cock as he does.

"Oh my god," Taichi breathes, his chest still heaving a bit, and he squeezes around Yamato one more time before the blonde gives in and comes, and comes, Taichi's body wringing him out for all he's worth. His orgasm lasts, it really lasts, and he just kind of slumps against one of Taichi's still-bent knees, presses his forehead to it and tries to catch his breath.

He's vaguely aware that Taichi's hand is still pumping his own cock and he isn't all that surprised when he feels Taichi's body clench up around him for a moment, and he hears him gasp, _Ah_ , hears the little pitter of drops hitting the other boy's stomach again, and that makes his own dick twitch, still nestled inside of Taichi's body, and give one more feeble spurt.

They're both speechless for a long time, trying to catch their breath, letting their bodies cool, until Yamato finally peels himself off Taichi's leg and grouses, "You fucking tease."

Taichi snorts, his eyes still closed but his mouth curling in a grin. "You love it," he accuses back, and Yamato's response is to pull out completely, no warning. Taichi makes another punched-out noise at the loss, and he's drifted back enough to start noticing the little patches of discomfort all over his body, and he groans a little, his eyebrows furrowing.

"You okay?" he hears Yamato ask, from a little further away that he'd have thought. He's stood up.

"Rug burn," is all Taichi can manage to say, trying to move and regretting it.

"Shit," Yamato swears, and Taichi cracks open one eye as the blonde pads down the hall and into the bathroom, emerges a few moments later holding up a tube and a washcloth.

Yamato crawls back between Taichi's legs, grabbing his own t-shirt as he does, and uses the flimsy cotton to quickly wipe up the mess on Taichi's torso before nudging him and asking him to turn over. Taichi does as he's asked, hissing a little, and when he's flat on his belly he hears Yamato suck in a breath through his teeth.

"You have terrible bedside manner," Taichi gripes, folding his arms in front of himself and pillowing his forehead.

Yamato considers playfully swatting Taichi on the ass for the remark, but figures he ought to play nice, given the state of the brunette's back. It's covered in discolored splotches, especially at the tip of his shoulder blades, where he's bleeding just a little. Whoops.

Yamato takes him time pressing kisses and the warm cloth to all the burns and then spreading an antibacterial ointment over any places where skin split open, and he's so engrossed in his care that it takes him a little while to notice how Taichi is staring at him over his shoulder, his one visible brown eye cracked open and almost black with lust, his body rising off the carpet with his heavy breathing.

In one quick, fluid motion, Yamato has his own back pressed to the carpet and Taichi is on top of him, leaning over him with his hands on either side of Yamato's head and his dick hard and leaking again on Yamato's stomach.

Taichi grins, wicked and sultry and smooth, and growls out, "Your turn."


End file.
